


LalalaLarry

by Mello_McQueen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-03-19
Updated: 2009-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-11 07:12:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/475947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mello_McQueen/pseuds/Mello_McQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't want to say something he's going to regret, because it all might just be worth it one day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	LalalaLarry

**Author's Note:**

> want to know a secret? ...I hate this pairing. written at: March 19, 2009.

**LalalaLarry**

A cool blue light filters through the thin white drapes and the boy stirs, shifting slightly in bed, as he drags himself from the depths of slumber. Once awake, further movement finds that his body is sore from the previous nights activities, but that’s to be expected really. As is the sensual feel of silk sheets against his bare skin, and the cold empty space beside him.</p>For a moment, he lets his fingers brush the sheets there, as though he might pick something out of nothing, then with a heavy sigh, he sits up and winces at a pain in his back and the sight of five deep purple finger shaped bruises around his left wrist.

Temporary reminds of a love that is purely physical if nothing else. A love he tells himself he doesn’t regret. Can’t allow himself to, as the bedroom door creaks softly, and a moment later a pair of fresh clothes – vaguely recognizable as his – land on the bed in a heap.  
  
The boy looks up at his so called lover, whose expression is sour as he says: “Get up and get dressed,” not quite managing to keep the utter disgust from leaking into his tone. He adds bitterly, “then get the hell out of my house.”  
  
Fighting back the urge to sob, or scream, or maybe just throw up the boy crawls out of bed and complies.  
  
On the way out the door, Lucius voice stops him. “Don’t come back.” He says, and the boy has to force himself to nod without comment, because he knows if he opens his mouth he’ll says something he doesn’t mean.  
  
Something he might actually regret, and then. . .then it really would be over, this love that is nothing if not purely physical, and Harry doesn’t think he could handle that, not when he knows that maybe, one day, he won’t regret waking up to nothing but the sensual feel of silk sheets against his bare skin, because maybe, just maybe one day he won’t be waking up alone.  
  
 **End**


End file.
